


Cold Hands, Warm Heart

by iwasanartist



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe-Canon Divergence, Banter, Confessing Feelings, Freezing, M/M, Pre-Avengers Civil War, low-key pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22481236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwasanartist/pseuds/iwasanartist
Summary: Tony's visiting Steve at the compound when an alarm goes off that will change their lives forever.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 9
Kudos: 92
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Cold Hands, Warm Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mollyamory (Molly)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molly/gifts).



Tony didn’t remember much. Alarms. Controls shaking in his hands. Pain. Arms under his. Cold. But it was all just flashes. Snippets of memories he wasn’t sure he wanted back. And so he let himself drift back to better times.

> ”Knock knock! Where my Avengers at?”
> 
> “Kitchen!” Steve’s voice called from the distance. It wasn’t a long walk, but with every step Tony’s mood lifted. “Hey,” Steve said with a smile as he entered. “I was just making a sandwich. Want one?”
> 
> “Let me guess: Bologna, Wonder bread and mustard? Hard pass, Cap.”
> 
> “What’s wrong with it?”
> 
> “Well, for starters we’re not on war rations or in The Great Depression,” Tony said as he swiped at the squeeze bottle of yellow mustard. “Tell you what, stick a pin in that, and I’ll make you a real sandwich.”
> 
> One corner of Steve’s mouth ticked up as he raised his eyebrows and re-twisted the tie on his bread. Tony could feel his eyes on him while he rummaged through the cupboards and fridge returning to the counter with a bounty of goods.
> 
> “So what brings you to town?” Steve asked as Tony sliced into a loaf of sourdough. “I don’t think you came all the way here to make me a sandwich.”
> 
> “Working on a project back home,” he said, cutting into a tomato and assembling his masterpiece. “It’s kind of kicking everyone’s ass, and the guy running it…well, he’s a little cuckoo, even for me. Thought I could use a break and remembered I was working on a new suit here. Figured I’d get back on that for a bit. Nothing like a little project hopping to clear the head.” Tony brought a knife down through the sandwich, and deposited one half onto a plate before sliding it to Steve. “There you go, big guy. Stick that in your piehole.”
> 
> Tony watched Steve pick up the sandwich, listened for the crunch of the crust and lettuce and onion and couldn’t help but feel a small swell of satisfaction as Steve’s eyes closed while he chewed.
> 
> “It’s delicious, Tony. Thank you.”
> 
> “Invite me here more often and I’ll make all kinds of things to expand your culinary horizons.”
> 
> “I didn’t invite you here this time,” Steve said around another mouthful. “But you know you never need an invitation. You’re always welcome. This place was yours long before it was ours.”
> 
> “Noted,” Tony said as he took his own bite. He couldn’t help but notice how uncharacteristically quiet it was at the compound’s residential wing. “Speaking of, where is your team?”
> 
> “R&R,” Steve said. “Wanda took Vision to Sokovia for some sort of cultural celebration-”
> 
> “Is that why there’s so much paprika in your pantry?”
> 
> “I have no idea. But that’s where they are. Sam’s visiting his mother, Nat’s with the Bartons and Rhodes-”
> 
> “I know that one. He’s off scaring the bejezus out of some new Air Force recruits. What about you? No rest for the star-spangled?”
> 
> “Honestly, I was just enjoying the quiet.”
> 
> “Sorry to interrupt.”
> 
> “Oh, no no,” Steve’s eyes went wide as he spoke. “That’s not what I meant. It’s good to see you, Tony. It’s…it’s always good to see you. I just meant it was nice to not have to be ‘on’ all the time, you know? I don’t have to The Captain, I can just be…”
> 
> “Steve?”
> 
> “Yeah. You get it.”
> 
> They ate the rest of their meal in silence, and Tony couldn’t quite shake the feeling that they were both stealing glances, always just missing each other by milliseconds.
> 
> “Guess I better get down to the lab,” Tony finally said, brushing some crumbs off his shirt.
> 
> “Want some company?”
> 
> “Thought you were enjoying the quiet.”
> 
> “Yeah, but the thing about quiet is it gets a little lonely-”
> 
> Steve cut himself off. Most people would have probably thought he’d just reached the end of his sentence, but there was something about the the set of his jaw and a slight squint of his eye that told Tony he’d said more than he’d meant to reveal.
> 
> Captain America got lonely sometimes.
> 
> “You know what? I do work better when I have an audience to wow.”
> 
> Tony rose from his seat and spun Steve off of his stool, giving him just barely enough time to snatch up a sketchbook, pencil and pickle spear as he dragged him to his personal lab.
> 
> It was dark when they got there, except for one cabinet that Tony was actually a little surprised to still find glowing at the edges of its doors.
> 
> “What is that?” Steve asked.
> 
> “That,” Tony said as he flung open the doors, “is the Mark-I’ve-Lost-Count.” An Iron Man suit — mostly red with gold accents at the torso, joints and thighs stared back at them from behind a shimmering forcefield of pinks and blues.
> 
> “Wow. Looks pretty done to me.”
> 
> “It does, doesn’t it? Except-” Tony flipped a switch and the forcefield disappeared. They watched as the suit collapsed into a puddle of metallic dots at the bottom of the container.
> 
> “Well, that’s impractical.”
> 
> “Yep.”
> 
> “What are you going to do?”
> 
> “First thing’s first: Gotta get FRIDAY to interface with the nanotech. After that there’s the independent power issue. Eventually I want to get a neural pathway connection over the plasma channels but for now I think we can just program in some basic functions and focus on the musculature — and I’ve lost you haven’t I?”
> 
> Steve just stared at him.
> 
> “Somewhere around nanotech.”
> 
> “It’s like…”
> 
> “You know, I think it might be best if I just sat down over there-” Steve pointed to the couch in the corner, “and observed. I promise to be sufficiently wowed when you tell me to be.”
> 
> Tony smiled and dropped a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Man with a plan! Sounds good.”
> 
> Steve settled in on the couch and Tony turned his attention to a computer. It wasn’t long before he could hear the faint scratching of Steve’s pencil on paper. There was something peaceful about it, and soon Tony was in a zone that usually took loud music and maybe a drink or two to reach.
> 
> “FRIDAY’s in,” he said as the progress bar jumped from 99 to 100.
> 
> “Wo-ow,” Steve said, drawing the word out dispassionately from his spot on the couch, one leg stretched out and the other bent enough to balance the sketch pad on his thigh.
> 
> “You could sound a little more impressed there, big guy.”
> 
> Steve popped up and put both feet on the floor, setting the pad aside. “Wow, Tony! That’s really great!” he said with a giant grin plastered on his face. “How great is that, FRIDAY?!”
> 
> “Two days ago he integrated me with a toaster,” FRIDAY said.
> 
> “Okay, 1: Smartass,” Tony pointed at Steve, “and 2: Traitor,” he waved his finger around the room in a general gesture to FRIDAY. “And I’ll have you know, that toaster was burning _everything_.”
> 
> “That’s what happens when somebody dials it up to 10, Boss,” FRIDAY said.
> 
> Steve laughed, and something about it drew a genuine smile out of Tony.
> 
> “Fine, fine,” he said. “You go back to your little drawing, maybe take a nap, and I’ll rouse you at the next milestone.”
> 
> “Will do.” Steve leaned back into the couch and Tony turned his attention back to his work. And in fact, the next time he glanced that way, he found Steve reclined on the couch, ankles propped up on the far arm, open sketchbook face-down on his chest with a pencil dangling near the floor from one hand as he breathed slowly, fast asleep.
> 
> “FRIDAY, dim the lights,” Tony whispered. He thought about waking Steve when a pile of particulate fashioned itself into a tiny stabilizer, and again when the suit reformed and held its shape absent the containment field. But he just looked so peaceful that Tony thought it better to let him rest. He probably needed it after all. It wasn’t until he’d changed out of his clothes and into a thin flight suit that he laid a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve breathed in sharply before turning to Tony.
> 
> “Sorry, I didn’t mean-” Steve stopped mid sentence and furrowed his brow at Tony, running his fingers across the fabric at his wrist. “You changed?”
> 
> “You noticed.”
> 
> “Hard not to.”
> 
> Tony grinned as he pulled Steve to his feet. It had been years since he donned the black form-fitting getup and felt all the plates of the Mark 3 slide and screw into place. Back then he just hadn’t wanted to get his clothes caught in the metal on its virgin flight to right some wrongs, but this time the fewer barriers between the suit and him the better. But not even he was up for some naked time in a prototype suit.
> 
> “Yeah, this one’s a little different,” he said as he led Steve to the center of the lab. Steve frowned.
> 
> “It just looks like shoes.”
> 
> “Yep, but check this out — and try not to contain your enthusiasm.” Tony gingerly stepped one foot and then the other into the scarlet footings and gave Steve a wink. “FRIDAY, zip me up.”
> 
> Tony let out an involuntary gasp as the nanobytes began slithering up his legs. Around his torso. Across his shoulders and down his arms. It was like being tangled in ropes and submerged in water, and if he hadn’t lived the life he’d had, it might have just been a curious sensation, but as it began to travel up his neck, he could feel a tinge of panic in his chest. He focused on Steve’s eyes, got lost in the blue and felt a moment’s calm before the mask covered his face, shrouding everything in darkness. Tony swallowed and breathed through his nose.
> 
> But then he heard a _-thunk-_ like lights in a warehouse coming on one by one as the suit’s systems came online, and soon he found himself once again staring at Steve. He was slackjawed, a sparkle of wonder in his eyes.
> 
> “What do you think?” Tony’s voice echoed back at him just slightly.
> 
> “That was beautiful,” Steve said. “I mean, uh, _wow_. That is amazing.” Steve stepped forward and raised a hand, stopping himself before he got to close.
> 
> “Can I…”
> 
> “Yeah, you can touch it.”
> 
> Steve dropped his hand on Tony’s shoulder and let his slide down across his bicep and his elbow in one motion. Usually being in the suit came with a feeling of disconnect. Like he was fighting from inside a garbage can. But on this suit, FRIDAY adjusted the haptic sensors, and even though Tony had an idea of what to expect, nothing could quite compare to buzz of Steve’s light touch as he continued down Tony’s arm, stopping at his wrist.
> 
> “It’s so smooth…”
> 
> “Yep. No hydraulics or gears or plates. Just one piece designed to move with me.” Tony took a step back, his arm falling from Steve’s grasp, and did a few squats and lunges and stretched his arms to the heavens before windmilling them around. “Much more flexible. God, it’s like I’m barely even wearing anything. But…here, hit me.”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “Hit me.”
> 
> Steve frowned, raised his hand and swatted at Tony’s shoulder.
> 
> “Okay, well, a fly wouldn’t have felt that. Come on Rogers, put some muscle into it.”
> 
> “Are you sure?”
> 
> “YES - wait, FRIDAY, we can adjust for that right?”
> 
> “There’s a light combat program enabled, Boss.”
> 
> “Great! Hit me!” Tony pounded a spot on his chest and Steve shook his head before winding back and delivering a blow. It staggered Tony back a few steps but the program anticipated the hit and adjusted the new sensors to compensate.
> 
> “I didn’t feel a thing!” Tony crowed as Steve’s semi-worried expression broke into a grin. “Come on, let’s get down to the hangar and test the flight capabilities.”
> 
> They hadn’t made it far before an alarm rang out.

Tony woke with a start. There was a light buzz in his ears and his eyes felt gummy. He recognized that feeling, and groaned. There weren’t a lot of things he hated more than waking up from a drugged sleep. At least he wasn’t tied down or tethered to an IV bag this time. He took a deep breath and forced his eyes open.

White walls. White ceiling. Beige bed rails. All the hallmarks of a hospital. Tony felt around the edges of the bed until he found a square control box and pushed the button to raise his head. Once he was sitting up, he came face to face with a red laptop on the rolling bedside table. A watch was next to it and Post-It was stuck to the screen.

_What you asked for, but get some rest.  
\- R_

Yeah. He had a vague memory of waking in a panic that he couldn’t quite explain. But Rhodey and Wilson were there, and when he’d calmed down they’d filled in the blanks as best they could. Honestly, Tony barely remembered what they’d said, but he supposed the whos hows and whys didn’t really matter at this point. A disgruntled underling. A fake alarm. Sabotage. A crash.

There was a lot they couldn’t tell him, though. They knew how it started and they knew how it ended — Avengers old and new coming together and then spreading out to find them huddled together in snow and ice, Steve’s body curled around his, clad in socks and the jeans and T-shirt he’d been wearing before pulling his uniform on over them and racing to the jet. He’d given the rest to Tony, and if he closed his eyes and concentrated he could almost remember what it had felt like to be maneuvered into the clothes, Steve’s residual body heat warming him like a furnace. But every time he tried to dig deeper into his memory for something more concrete, he hit a wall.

Tony pulled the laptop toward him and pressed a few keys. It didn’t take long to pull up FRIDAY’s logs for the day. He scrolled past the reams of data from the lab and jumped straight to the practical tests. He’d done a quick run-through in a training zone while Steve scrambled into his gear and FRIDAY prepped the jet. He had flight. He had light weapons. Enough to not be a liability and to be more than a chauffeur under most circumstances.

But apparently this wasn’t most circumstances.

>>WARNING: REMOTE ACCESS GRANTED.  
>>>>DESTINATION REROUTE.

Someone hacked the jet. Seeing it there in black and white did something to his memory, and he could feel the vibration in his arms as he tried to regain control. He could hear the clicks as Steve sat in the co-pilot’s chair, flipping switches to force a system reset.

But nothing worked, and he remembered heading to the manual shutoff, pulling a panel and getting hit with an electrical blast that sent him reeling into the opposite wall and interrupted the suit enough to keep it from absorbing the blow that left him seeing stars and then barely anything.

Tony winced and reached a hand to the back of his head. There was still a tender spot and a distinct lack of full memory. Rhodey had said something about an explosion and bailing out of the jet. Tony closed his eyes. He remembered wind and a free fall and smashing into something mid-air.

_”FRIDAY, activate flight systems! Take over; put us down!”_

>>VOCAL ANALYSIS ‘CAP’ CONFIRMED.  
>>‘FRIDAY’ AI DISCRETION ACTIVATED  
>>FLIGHT SYSTEMS ACTIVATED

FRIDAY was able to slow their descent, maneuver them away from the falling debris of the jet splashing into icy water and get them to snowpack.

>>WARNING: NANOTECH INTEGRITY FAILING  
>>>RESOLVE: ISOLATE DAMAGED PARTICLES

Steve half carried him as portions of the suit dissolved away, falling into the snow. It kept them from spreading their damage, but left him exposed to the elements. He remembered reaching the underside of a giant rock that lipped out, almost like a shallow cave, and collapsing into the snow, still freezing but at least protected from some of the wind.

_"Tony?! FRIDAY, what’s the temp?”_

>>BIOSCAN:BOSS  
>>ACCESS: HISTORICAL RECORDS ‘CAPTAIN AMERICA’

_“Too cold, Captain. You’ve got time, but Boss needs immediate assistance.”_

_“S..s..snowglobe.”_

_“What?”_

_“Make a b…barrier,” Tony tapped the suit. “Re…reconf…reconfigure repulsors t..to heating element.”_

_“Tony, I don’t understand.”_

_“I do, Captain.”_

Tony shivered and pulled his blanket tighter. Whatever he’d felt when the nanites first overtook him was nothing to how it felt when they’d retreated, leaving him unprotected in the snow as they spread out to wall them in under the rock. A constellation of blue dots blasted pin pricks of heat, but he’d barely felt it. That was when Steve began to shed his gear. And not long after that, everything went black.

No one would tell him much about Steve. Just that he was alive, and they were warming him back up, but it was a little more complicated than SHIELD’s notes implied. That left FRIDAY’s logs as his real source of information. He studied the data points until it painted a picture of Steve dressing him, leaning back against the flat side of the rock because there wasn’t room to stand and pulling Tony close. For a while, he coordinated with FRIDAY.

>>SCANNING  
>>CAP: FRIDAY, what’s our comms status?  
>>CONVERSATION PROTOCOL ACTIVATED  
>>FRIDAY: I was able to activate a distress beacon as the jet was crashing.  
>>CAP: Chances anyone will hear it?  
>>CALCULATING … AI DISCRETION STATUS: ONGOING … SUNNY DAY PROTOCOL INITIATED  
>>FRIDAY: I’m sure someone will. And this suit emits a low frequency signal that can be detected at closer ranges.

Of course, what wasn’t said was whether anyone would find them in time. But it must have been enough to ease Steve’s mind, because for a while he was silent. FRIDAY worked in the background, monitoring their conditions, coaxing the nanites into new positions for better heat dispersal and trying to amplify the suit’s signal.

Steve’s temperature dropped faster than Tony’s. FRIDAY did some digging and deduced that the serum was probably going first, protecting him in a way but also freezing him from the inside out. It was when FRIDAY noticed him clenching his hands and moving his fingers one by one that she spoke.

>>FRIDAY: Everything okay, Captain?  
>>CAP: Yeah. Yeah I just…I can’t feel my legs. Fingers getting stiff.  
>>ACTIVATE NANITE CLUSTER 152.79. RELOCATE.

Tony could imagine one of the repulsors-turned-heating-elements shifting closer to Steve.

>>CAP: How’s Tony?  
>>BIOSCAN: BOSS  
>>FRIDAY: Hanging in there, sir.  
>>CAP: Good. Good. Any s…sign of rescue?  
>>FRIDAY: None yet.  
>>CAP: Okay. Okay, listen FRI,I know you just moved that light to me, but give Tony everything he needs f…for as long as you can and put anything extra into boosting the signal. I can’t…

There was a pause in their communication. FRIDAY’s scan noted a shaking that seemed unrelated to the shivering cold. When Steve spoke again, it was with what her analysis registered as rising panic.

>>CAP: God, I can’t do it again. I can’t…I can’t wake up in a 100 years all… I don’t want to be alone again.

There was a pause again. A calmer Steve spoke next.

>>CAP: Give him everything.

For the next several screens of information, Tony watched FRIDAY’s morality protocols war with each other as his condition held stable and Steve’s declined. Technically, Steve hadn’t revoked the discretion protocol — probably didn’t even know he’d activated it when he told her to take over as they fell from the jet. She could make any decision available to her, and there was the rub. Protect Boss, warred with Protect Life warred with Respect Life plus a dash of concern for Boss’s Mental Health, and a slow failing of the suit’s power for good measure left all her scales teetering until she reached a decision.

>>FRIDAY: Captain?  
>>CAP: Hmmm?  
>>FRIDAY: How are you feeling?  
>>CAP: Oh, you know. Same stuff, different day.

Tony didn’t need her vocal analysis to know Steve was nearing a tipping point.

>>CAP: ‘Cept it feels a little different this time. I don’t remember a lot, but I think it’s different, anyway.  
>>FRIDAY: I could redirect some of the heat to you.  
>>CAP: Help coming yet?  
>>FRIDAY: No.  
>>CAP: The save it for Tony. Unless…if something goes wrong…If I don’t make it out of here and he does…will he blame himself?

FRIDAY ran several calculations before speaking next.

>>FRIDAY: If history is an indicator, Boss will call you an idiot and be angry for several weeks before unrestrained guilt sets in.

Wow, she really did know him.

>>CAP: Oh. Can you…are you able to record a message?  
>>FRIDAY: I have logs of this entire incident.  
>>CAP: No, I mean like a video or a … a pod…something?  
>>FRIDAY: Yes, this suit has the capability for a short video.  
>>CAP: Good. I’d like to make one. For Tony’s eyes only.

The next several screens of data was comprised of scrambled code. Numbers, letters and symbols stared back at him until Tony brought the laptop’s camera close to his face and entered a few keystrokes. A light shined in his eye and when he’d blinked away its effects, the code was unscrambling and reforming into a video player. His hand paused over the space bar as Tony became acutely aware of how little anyone had actually told him about Steve. A part of him worried that watching his potential last words would tempt fate too much.

But when had he believed in fate? Tony tapped the button and watched the black screen fade up on an image of Steve sitting with his back against the rock wall. He hadn’t expected to see himself. And yet, there he was, leaning against Steve’s chest, eyes closed with the top half of Steve’s uniform backward, stretched out and covering them like a blanket.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve said. There was something slow and soft about his voice. Like finding the words he wanted was a struggle and getting the air to say them even moreso. “I guess…I guess if you’re watching this, things didn’t go so well. For me, at least. I hope they went well for you. I need you to know that that’s all I want — more than anything — is for you to get out of this.” Steve winced. His eyes squeezed shut with a grimace he couldn’t contain. God, he was in pain and it broke Tony’s heart. Steve’s face relaxed and he opened his mouth wide, moving his jaw back and forth before speaking again.

“If you’re watching…I don’t know what went wrong, but something must have. And I need you to know it’s okay. And I’m not just saying that because I’m trying to be a hero or something. It’s just that…you’re special, Tony. And I know you’d p…probably say you don’t need anyone to tell you that, but sometimes…sometimes I think you do. So b…believe me when I say you are amazing. You’ve got a brilliant mind and a beautiful heart and I … I care about you. Probably…probably more than I should. A lot more than I should.”

Steve paused and swallowed. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion.

“Don’t feel bad,” he said. “I’d do this…I’d do it a thousand times for you. I’d burn up in the sun. I’d walk through lava or swim through acid. Because all I want is for you to make it. For you to be happy. Please… _please_ be happy for me. Tell people how much you love them. Let them love you back. Make great things. But you don’t have to worry about being great, because you already are.” Steve’s voice broke and he sniffed the cold air once before bending down to rest his cheek atop his head. “Just…just be okay, okay? For me? FRIDAY, stop recording.”

And that was how the team found them. Vision and Wanda first, then Rhodey and Wilson flying in and finally Nat and Clint, landing in a backup jet, hot and ready to whisk them away. There weren’t even very many entries left in FRIDAY’s logs. Of course, that was because the nanotech had reached critical mass and the last decision FRIDAY made before going offline was to direct all the power she could into one strong signal burst before leaving them to whatever ambient heat remained and a prayer.

Tony watched Steve’s video again. And again, and again, And when he couldn’t do it anymore he turned his attention back to the laptop and tried to occupy himself with figuring out why and how the nanites had failed. Was it the temperature? The composition? The programming? The answer had to be there, but his thoughts were like mud and soon he pushed the laptop away and grabbed the watch. Maybe he’d focus on the wearables for a little while. A glasses display. A more portable gauntlet. After all, he’d already put FRIDAY into a toaster and a wristwatch. Surely he could expand on that and leave the nanosuit for another crisis.

He slipped the watch on his wrist and tugged it tight before tapping the face twice.

“Hey, FRI,” he said softly. The digital watch face dissipated and reformed into words.”

HEY BOSS

“How you doing?”

HONESTLY THE NETWORK HERE COULD USE AN UPGRADE  
HOW ARE YOU?

“Better now, thanks to you.”

I DIDN’T DO MUCH

“I’ve got logs that say otherwise. How’s Steve?”

FRIDAY still replied in under three seconds, but for Tony it was a delay that may as well have been three hours.

RECOVERING

Well. That was a bullshit answer if he ever heard one. Tony turned his attention to the bed rail, scouring its composition for signs of a lever, switch or button that would save him from being trapped in bed like some kind of infant and finally settled for brute force, jerking it forwards and backwards until something clicked or broke and brought the rail down flush with the bedside. His watch buzzed and he didn’t need to look at it to know FRIDAY was questioning his next move as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The room spun and there might have been a slight churning in his stomach, but he ignored it and set his feet down on the floor.

One foot went left, the other went right and Tony was left grasping at the bed frame to hold himself up as the door opened after a quick tap.

“Hey, you decent - aw crap” Rhodey rushed over got his hands under Tony’s arms and hauled him back into bed. “Where you going, man?”

“I want to see Cap. Nobody will tell me anything. FRIDAY won’t even tell me anything. How bad is it, Rhodey?”

Rhodes pursed his lips together and nodded his head before pulling a chair over and sitting down.

“It hasn’t been good, Tone,” he said. “I don’t know how you stayed so warm, which is a weird thing to say given how cold you were, but he was nearly frozen solid again. But something’s different. Maybe the serum wasn’t ever meant to be frozen once, let alone twice…”

Tony nodded, but kept silent.

“He’s not…he’s not warming up as fast as the doctors thought he should. And even when he was warm enough to restore a sort of normal heart rhythm…”

“What?”

“He’s not breathing on his own yet, Tony. They’ve got him on a ventilator. He’s surrounded by heat lamps and machines and you’re not doing so great yourself right now.”

“I’m fine.”

“Uh huh. My eyes would tend to disagree with that.”

“I want to see him.”

“Tony-”

“He saved my life, Rhodey. He saved my life, and I want. To see. Him. He shouldn’t … He shouldn’t wake up alone. Now you can help me, or you can get out of my way.” Tony made it to his feet this time, but it was a wobbly ordeal and though he wouldn’t admit it, he was kind of grateful for Rhodey’s arm squeezing a bicep and holding him upright.

“Okay, okay,” Rhodey said. “Just sit back down for a second.” Rhodey gave the gentlest of nudges and Tony found himself back in bed. “Sit tight, and I’ll have Sam rustle up a wheelchair-”

“A _wheelchair_ , Rhodes are you kidding me?”

“That’s the deal, Tony.”

“All right fine.” Tony pulled his legs back into bed and leaned back with a huff.

“OK,” Rhodey said. “We’ll see what we can find, and in the meantime, you have a visitor.” He stepped to the door and opened it wide. She was on the other side, red-eyed and dressed in a blue business suit that didn’t match the haphazard tie back of her hair.

“Pepper?”

“Hi, Tony.”

* * *

Pepper kept him distracted for almost an hour. At first they didn’t talk, she just took Rhodey’s place in the chair next to the bed and laid a hand over his, rubbing her thumb across his skin like she was desperate to believe he was real.

“Thanks for coming,” he finally said.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I don’t know what to think about anything right now,” he said before steering the conversation to safer waters. “How’s business?”

“B.A.R.F.’s coming along — we really need a new name by the way. Stocks are up 40 percent since they found you.”

“Huh. Maybe I should nearly die more often.”

“Don’t even joke about that, Tony. I mean it.”

“Sorry.”

She filled him in on the world news while he’d been out of it, scores for sports he didn’t know she followed and enough company gossip from Happy that Tony’s head was spinning — at least in a good way this time — by the time she was done.

“Can I get you anything?” Pepper asked as Tony ran a hand across his face. God, she knew all his tells.

“I could really use some coffee.”

She nodded and squeezed his hand before rising. “On it.” She hadn’t been gone long before the door opened and Rhodey pushed a wheelchair into the room.

“About time. Did you have to build it for Christ’s sake?”

“Oh, you’re very funny,” Rhodey said as he maneuvered through the room and helped Tony into the chair and rolled him to the door.”

“Pepper just went out for coffee…”

“Pretty sure she’ll know where to find you.”

They hadn’t made it far before a doctor trailed by what looked like a team of medical students rounded a corner.

“Mr. Stark?!” the doctor said. “We were just coming to see you. You shouldn’t be out of bed!”

“And yet, here I am.” He reached back and tapped Rhodey’s hand before motioning forward. To his surprise, Rhodey barely slowed.

“Colonel Rhodes!”

“Hey, walk and talk, Doc. We got places to be.”

There was a part of Tony that couldn’t help but smile as the students chased after them like ducklings, sticking a thermometer in his ear or holding his wrist to check his pulse while Rhodey walked down the hall with just a little more pep and the doctor asked him a dozen questions about his physical health and current symptoms. On a normal day, Tony might have bullshitted with him a little bit, lashed out with a caustic tongue, but something kept his answers simple and straightforward.

“How’s Steve doing?” he asked when the doctor’s questions ran dry.

“Captain Rogers is improving.” The doctor kept talking, but Tony could barely hear him over his own breaths, coming easily and fully for maybe the first time since he’d woken up.

* * *

Tony watched Steve sleep.

The heating coils and thermal blankets had been removed. He was breathing on his own, and his heart rate was strong and steady. The only sign that anything had been wrong was an IV dripping warm saline into his veins. He just needed to wake up. The medical team had pored over the SHIELD notes from the first thawing. Tony’d caught a glimpse in FRIDAY’s logs, but it was all just a little too much biology for him, and for not the first time, he’d found himself wishing Bruce were still around.

“It’s kind of like a complete system reboot,” one of the doctors said. “Warm him up and wait is all we can do now.”

Tony sucked at waiting.

Someone had left Steve’s sketchbook on the bedside table and he pulled it closer, opening it to the middle. One page was just a close up of Wanda’s hands. The details were there, right down to her chipped nail polish and array of rings, but it was the motion of her hands that Steve had somehow managed to capture on paper that caught his eye, her fingers caught mid-twirl as power flowed between them. The next page showed Natasha and Rhodey laughing, probably during a lull in a training session. The sharp, heavy lines of the War Machine suit stood in stark contrast to the soft wave of her hair and Tony once again found himself stunned as he flipped through pages and pages of Avengers frozen but still vividly alive in grayscale. Forget the superhero business, Steve could make a mint on coffee table art books.

And then he saw it. Right after a dark image of Vision, illuminated only by the glow of his stone, was himself rendered in a scratchy sketch and carrying an armful of supplies to the compound’s kitchen table. A tomato teetered on the edge of a container of roast beef and it seemed like so long ago that he’d shifted his balance just in time to keep it from falling to the floor.

He turned the page once more and was himself floored.

The previous drawing looked like it had been dashed off in an attempt to get it on the page before the details slid from memory. There was a hurriedness to it that was absent in the not-quite-three-quarter profile he stared at now. The lines were clean and smooth as Tony’s lower lip tucked between his teeth and the corners of his mouth raised up in a half smile. His eyes were turned down, focused on an unseen pile of nanotech that had managed to hold an actual shape all on its own. The work was no less technically perfect than the others had been, in fact it was even more simple in its composition, but there was something else about it. Something extra. Like a different kind of care was taken with each pass of the pencil.

Tony set the book down and leaned forward in his chair, eyes trained on Steve. They’d been through so much since Fury assembled his ragtag team of heroes on a helicarrier all those years ago and all Tony wanted was to go through more. Now. In the future. Maybe forever if the science worked out.

“You planning to wake up sometime today?” he asked.

Silence.

Tony sighed and took a drink of his coffee before setting it back down with disgust. It was cold now, and Tony had had enough cold. Fortunately it didn’t take long for the door to open and Pepper to slip inside, another steaming cup in her hands.

“Round two?”

“Mind reader.”

She watched him for a moment before turning her attention to Steve.

“Any change?”

“Not yet.”

She nodded and ran a finger around the curve of her ear. Her makeup was fresh and her hair redone. She even smelled faintly of orchid because — as she’d once explained — even if the people on the other end of a video conference couldn’t smell her, she could and it helped keep her in the right frame of mind.

“Your call go okay?”

“It was fine.” She took a breath like she was about to speak again when her phone buzzed with a new text. She looked down with a sigh. “I’ve got to take this.” Her hand landed lightly on his shoulder before trailing away.

“Hey, Pep?”

She turned back to look at him, one hand on the door, hair shining in the harsh light.

“We’re done, right?” he asked. Her brow scrunched just a little bit, like it always did when he posed a serious question. “I mean, we are? No more deals. No more promises. No more last ditch efforts or half-drunk bad decisions?”

“Tony-”

“I mean, hey, if _this_ didn’t spark some hot hospital bed makeup sex, there’s probably no hope, anyway,” he said with a cheeky grin that always made her laugh and this was no exception. It was only when her giggles died down and her face returned to something somber that he spoke again. “We don’t work, do we?”

Her eyes glistened as she shook her head, a near silent “No,” on her lips as she walked back to him, bent down to wrap an arm around his body and kissed the top of his head. “But it wasn’t for lack of trying.” Tony laid a hand over her arm, and they just sat there, holding each other for a moment, a tiny salute to the things they’d been to each other over the years. And then she coughed, pulled away and straightened up.

“I have to get back to Malibu,” Pepper said, and for the first time he realized how tired she sounded. How much business she must have been doing from a waiting room chair. God, she must have hopped on a plane the second she’d heard. “I’m glad you’re okay, and…” a thoughtful expression played out on her face as she looked past Tony. “Give Steve my love.”

He nodded, and Pepper was out the door and probably halfway to her car before her words landed in his brain. And people called him the genius.

Tony wheeled his chair closer to Steve’s bedside. He reached a hand out, stopping just over Steve’s as a wave of uncertainty hit. Something about it chilled him more than the cold had, but he was close enough to feel the space between them, like a radiant heat or a static charge building up. Whatever it was, it gave him what he needed to lower his hand, sliding his fingers over Steve’s until the tips touched the sheet.

There was no response. With his other hand, Tony reached out and tapped a finger against Steve’s forehead.

“Hey, big guy. You awake in there?” Tap tap tap. “Come on, Cap. Time to get up.” Tap tap-

It was on the third tap that he felt a finger twitch beneath his.

“Steve?” Tony pulled himself to his feet, but he was still finding his balance after nearly freezing to death and keeled forward, his chest leaning heavily on the bed rail. The hand on Steve’s forehead stroked back through his hair and the other … well, now he was holding Steve Rogers’ hand, and what might have seemed mildly wrong and awkward a few years ago couldn’t have felt more right. “Steve?”

But Steve was still again, lost in a dreamscape that at least didn’t seem horrible, if his peaceful, relaxed expression was anything to go by. There was a part of him that wanted to let him sleep. Lord knew he’d earned it. But the other part of him just wanted to see his eyes and his smile. It wanted to talk with him and laugh with him and fight about everything and nothing all the while knowing that it was only because deep down they both just loved the fight as much as anything else. It wanted more than he could have possibly imagined.

Tony glanced toward the door. He strained his ears for the unlikely signs of anyone alerted by a twitchy finger. Satisfied that no one was coming, he got his weight beneath him and stood a little taller, leaning purposefully close to Steve’s ear.

“I’m gonna really need you to wake up,” he whispered. “Because, see, I kinda sorta think I might love you, and I really want to talk about it. So, what do you say?”

Nothing.

“What? You need some proof or something?” Tony swallowed and took a breath that shook just a little as he leaned closer and pressed his lips to Steve’s. “Please wake up. Because I love you, and I need you to know it.”

Fingers curled around his, and all Tony’s breath left in a huff as he moved back just enough to watch Steve’s brow crinkle before he drew a deep breath and his eyes eased open.

“Tony?”

“Hey, Sleepy. You gave us all a scare.”

Steve squinted up at him. “Am I dreaming?”

“No.” Tony watched as Steve’s eyes traveled the obnoxiously white, bright room.

“Am I dead?”

“No,” Tony said around a smile.

“Oh.” Steve’s gaze traveled down to their hands, still joined like it was the most natural thing in the world. “And you…” Steve’s voice caught in his throat like something far more terrifying than ice had frozen his tongue.

“I do.”

Steve grinned as Tony brought his hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to fingers that were still a touch too cold.

“Just remember who said it first.”

“Uh, that would be me,” Tony said as he brought his other hand to Steve’s, carefully rubbing his fingers between his palms. Steve frowned at him.

“No,” he said. “Didn’t FRIDAY-”

“Oh, no. I saw you’re little ‘Don’t Cry For Me,’ goodbye video. Seen it forwards and backwards about a dozen times now. You talk about how special I am and how much you care and that you’d happily die all the deaths for me, but during all that, not one single time do you say-”

“I love you, Tony.”

Tony’s hands stilled and he couldn’t hold back a grin as the words seeped into his soul, warming him from the inside out.

“Well,” he said, “I could hear that all day.” He was about to speak again when his watch buzzed and he leaned back, turning his attention to his wrist. “But FRIDAY says a gaggle of doctors is on the way, and I don’t know about you, but…”

“Want to keep this between us for a little bit?”

Tony tried to read Steve’s expression or his tone, but any clues were hidden in his glance around for the bed controls and the whir as he raised himself to a sitting position.

“You don’t mind?” he finally asked.

“Nah. Gives us some time to enjoy it before it turns into a circus.”

Tony breathed a sigh of relief as Steve looked back up at him.

“There is one thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

Steve motioned Tony forward, and as soon as he was within reaching distance, Steve grabbed his shirt in a fist and pulled him close, planting a kiss directly on his lips. Open mouth. With some tongue. Enough to leave Tony breathless as his grip relaxed and Steve pulled away, a mild flush to his cheeks.

“How long have you been waiting to do that?”

“Oh, I think probably 85 years.”

“You didn’t even know me 85 years ago.”

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t waiting for you.”

“And was it worth it?”

Steve’s smile was all he needed as the door opened.


End file.
